


Dark Water

by Iwovepizza



Series: Creature AUs [4]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: All of the other Dregs make cameos, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arson, Bribery, Creature Fic, Creature Jesper, Drowning, Jesper is pretty fuckin scary, Jesper likes to drown people for a living, Kelpie Jesper, M/M, Minor Violence, One Shot, Stalking, Wylan is too good for this world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8509246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwovepizza/pseuds/Iwovepizza
Summary: Ever since an encounter with it when he was five, Wylan's nightmares have been plagued by a monstrous horse creature with glowing green eyes and serrated teeth. Every time, the horse offers Wylan a ride on its back, and every time, Wylan refuses. What will happen when Wylan is put in a situation where he has no choice but to take the monster up on its offer? (Or that one where Jesper is a kelpie who drowns young children in his pastime and Wylan just wants to be left alone for God's sake)





	

_“Deep into that darkness peering, long_

_I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting,_

_dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”_

_-Edgar Allan Poe “The Raven”_

\----Ӝ----

 

            The first time Wylan encountered The Thing was when he was only five years old.

            Jan Van Eck wanted little to do with a son who struggled immensely in school, so he didn’t really know or care of the fact that his toddler was playing by the ocean all by himself.

           Their seaside mansion overlooked a rock-strewn shore, and the billionaire, from his study on the upmost floor of the house, occasionally spared a glance outside to make sure that his child hadn’t drowned or hit his head.

           It wasn’t that Van Eck actually cared for his misfit of a son; that was most absurd. It was mostly because his reputation would be ruined if the pubic found out; Van Eck loathed the thought of himself going down in history as the owner of a multibillion dollar corporation whose son died because he wasn’t under supervision.

          Wylan clambered over the rocks on nimble feet, his fiery auburn curls easily spotted among the wash of dark grey that was the shore; Van Eck was even able to pick him out from the landscape all the way up from his study.

          The rocks were an incredibly dangerous playground, the ocean spray making them damp and slippery and their jagged edges deadly for unsuspecting children who had the misfortune to slip.

         Wylan had been practically raised on these rocks, though, and his bare feet clung to the slick surfaces with ease. His father had told him from the beginning not to go near the water, lest he be swept out to sea; Van Eck had servants that could come to retrieve his son if he fell, but many of them didn’t know how to swim, and it wasn't like the billionaire could make it all the way down to the shore from his study if Wylan was seized by the tide.

            Wylan soon found out that his father did little to enforce this rule, and any onlookers would be frozen with fear for the boy as he held up his horse figurine and made it gallop over serrated spires of rock, disregarding the dark, frothing water that churned in the crevices beneath his feet.

            Seagulls called overhead, their streamlined bodies standing out against the cloudless sky, and the ocean breeze fended off the heat of the dying summer.

           Wylan’s sleeves were rolled up, his pants ripped at the knees, and he enjoyed the nice weather while it lasted; even though Jan Van Eck was lax, he put his foot down when it came to playing on the rocks in the winter, banishing Wylan to play in the pastures near the horses.

            The freckle-faced child was much more content to play with his equine figurine than the actual thing.

           This grey stallion, dubbed “Thunder”, was embodied forever in a canter, his mane whipped by an invisible wind and his mouth open in a silent whinny.

          Wylan made him jump great canyons and navigate dangerous trenches, becoming the disembodied voice that guided the horse on the quest to save the beautiful Ginger and claim her as his bride.

          Sadly, he’d left Ginger back up in his room, but it was the adventure that really counted, not the arrival at the destination.

            Wylan was incredibly close to the ocean, the rocks beginning to grow more spread out as land melted into sea, and the white waves beckoned to Wylan like sirens, luring him closer, close enough to be caught and drowned.

           The child was ignorant of this, and continued to make Thunder ride towards the tossing grey-green water. The sharp tang of salt and brine hung thick in the air, the wind bellowing in Wylan’s ears, and the seagulls seemed to call out a warning to the boy as he continued to tottle closer to the water, unaware of the danger that he was in.

          He leapt onto another rock and went to stand at the very edge, the ocean churning beneath his feet as he made Thunder gallop and dive through the air, locked in a battle with a vicious serpent that only existed in his imagination.

            Then Wylan slipped.

            His arms flailed for a moment, pinwheeling in the air as his hands floundered for a hold, and in that moment he was weightless, suspended over the edge.

           He managed to right himself, fumbling for his balance as he stumbled back and let out a sigh of relief.

           Thunder hadn’t been so lucky, and Wylan’s lip trembled as he slowly lowered himself down onto all fours and peered over the edge of the rock he was on.

          He saw nothing but roiling water below.

          He could already hear his father’s words in his head:

            “Quit your whining, son, I’ll just buy you a new one,” Jan Van Eck would say, shaking his head in disappointment. Because that’s what Wylan was; a disappointment.

            “But I want _my_ Thunder!” Wylan would cry. “The one who has a bit of red paint in his mane because I attempted to turn him into a rainbow horse before you stopped me! The one whose front left hoof is crooked because he fell of the balcony and one of the servants glued it on wrong!”

            The boy was just beginning to get misty-eyed when suddenly a horse-shaped object exploded from the water.

           Wylan was only barely able to duck before Thunder, dripping wet but otherwise intact, sailed through the air before plopping onto the ground and skidding to a stop.

           Needless to say, Wylan was overjoyed that, by some miracle, his horse had been rescued, and he was just about to stand up and get his beloved toy when suddenly he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

           He turned and nearly peed in his pants when he saw a large head rising from the waves, rivulets of water streaming down its face as it emerged from the water.

            The horse creature regarded Wylan with a set of glowing green eyes, and the child let out a squeak of terror as it leapt nimbly onto the rock, its hooves not making any noise as they touched the ground.

            Its mane and tail were long and tangled, flecks of seaweed wound within the clumpy knots here and there, and its skin was sallow, with gills clearly visible against its neck.

           The horse had clearly once been a dark white or light grey, but its coat was slathered in mud from the seabed, turning parts of it the color of runoff.

          Wylan stumbled back, nearly losing his footing once more, and groped for Thunder before gripping the figurine tightly against his chest.

            “Hello, little boy,” greeted the horse, its voice rich and hollow at the same time, like a serpent’s whisper. “What are you doing all out here by your lonesome?”

            “W-w-what are you?” Wylan stammered, trembling as he rose to his feet and began backing away from the creature.

            “An angel,” the horse replied, its head lowering as it slowly advanced, one terrifying, silent step at a time. “Ghezen sent me. He wants to talk to you.”

            “Ghezen?” Wylan asked, his fear evaporating slightly, and though he stopped in his tracks, he was still tense.

           His father had always told him that truly evil things couldn’t say the name of their god, and if this bedraggled, half-drowned looking horse could say Ghezen’s name, then how bad could it be?

            “What does he want to do with me?”

            “He thinks you’re a very bright young man,” explained the horse, and Wylan suddenly grew wary as he saw the glint of fangs within its mouth when it spoke. “He wants to talk to you and give you riches beyond imagination.”

            The horse gestured with its muzzle to Thunder, who was still tightly held against Wylan’s chest. “Perhaps you can wish that little toy of yours to life.”

            “Is he going to meet me here? Are you a messenger?” Wylan asked, since if he denied being curious he’d be lying, but his heart still jackhammered inside of his chest.

            “No,” the horse replied smoothly. “His palace lies under the sea. I could take you there, if you want.”

           The redhead never had heard of Ghezen’s palace being underwater, but then again, he wasn't that religious, and he never heard anything that disproved the fact that the god had a palace beneath the waves.

           He’d just assumed that Ghezen lived up in the sky like every other celestial being.

           Ravkan Saints lived in the clouds, so why couldn’t Ghezen?

            “How will I be able to breathe?” Wylan protested, taking another step back as he saw what looked suspiciously like a piece of vertebra ensnared within the tangles of the horse’s floor-length mane.

            “I’m an angel, remember? I’ll keep you nice and safe.”

            “For an angel, you sure are ugly,” Wylan stated without really thinking about it, and before he could leap to apologize, the horse chuckled darkly.

            “Some things are more than what they seem,” it whispered. “Now, get on my back. I’ll take you to Ghezen.” 

            Wylan hesitated, and with good reason. “Maybe I should ask my father first. I wouldn’t want him missing me.”

            He turned to leave, but there was the horse, blocking his path.

            It seemed even more wicked up close, its features ghastly and its flesh bloated and covered with spider webs of veins, like a corpse’s.

            “Not so fast, little boy,” it sneered. “You have to make your decision now. Ghezen shouldn’t be kept waiting.”

            “I apologize for that,” Wylan stated firmly, a burst of terror erupting within his chest, “But I have to ask my father-”

            “Get on my back.”

            “No.”

            The horse let out a terrifying hissing sound, baring its teeth.

            “I’ve been watching you play on these rocks for a while,” said the horse, grinning a grin that was so unsettling that Wylan could feel bile rising up in his throat. “I know that any parent who even cares the slightest bit about their child would never let them play on these rocks alone.”

            “My father cares about me,” Wylan insisted, but his voice faltered a bit, which he hated himself for.

            The horse’s grin contorted into a vicious sneer.  

            “I think not.”

            “I’m not going with you,” the boy snapped, keeping Thunder in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes trained on his house.

            The horse was blocking his way, and he knew that there was a very real possibility that he could die.

            After a few long moments of staring each other down, the creature finally seemed to cave, inclining its head in acknowledgement.

            “Very well,” it conceded, and Wylan skittered away as it slowly prowled passed, its mane dragging on the ground and collecting even more filth than it already had.

           The horse turned to face Wylan, its ears rotating and its nostrils flaring slightly, as if it was trying to memorize Wylan's features.

           “How about a pat on the neck, then? To send me on my way?” it suggested.

           Wylan looked at the decaying, slimy-looking skin and decided that no, he wouldn’t like to pat this thing on the neck.

           When the redheaded boy took a step back towards his house, trembling, the horse narrowed its eyes and, though reluctantly, slunk into the water.

           Wylan watched it swim out into the sea before its head dipped beneath the surface and it disappeared.

            He never went to the rocks again after that.

 

\----Ӝ----

 

            The second time Wylan encountered The Thing was near the creek by his family’s house, which had a shallow stream that led into the ocean trailing off of it.

           Wylan was in his pre-teen years, about eleven or twelve, and was in the midst of fashioning a slingshot out of sticks.

           Golden grasses swayed lazily around him, some boasting cattails, and Wylan was very much occupied with his whittling, enough to be uncaring of the fact that his overalls were getting soiled and his father was going to rip him a new one.

            The sun was very close to dipping below the horizon, the sky painted with an array of warm colors as the slightest hint of navy began to creep up in the east, and a warm breeze rolled over the landscape, causing the grasses to rustle and dance hypnotically around him.

             He was sitting in the dirt, his feet bare, as usual, and his face was streaked with brown.

            He continued to hack away at the bark on the sticks, and his tongue peeked out from in between his lips as his brow furrowed in concentration.

            He was sitting where the stream met the creek, and the sound of trickling water soothed his mind, considering the fallout he’d had with his father not two hours before.

            It was always the same; Jan Van Eck ripped his son a new one because he proved unable to be taught how to read, and Wylan would yell back how he was trying, and they would be at each other’s throats like cats and dogs before Wylan, inevitably, stormed out of the room and to a place of respite.

           When he was five, it would’ve been the rocks, but now Wylan was content to lounge around the creek and stay by himself within the reeds.

            His concentration was broken, however, when he heard a small splash, followed by the sound of streams of water trickling into the creek as something rose.

           There were no beavers or seafaring birds near this part of the property, and Wylan was immediately on high alert, abandoning his slingshot as he rose slowly to his feet.

            Wylan white-knuckled the end of his knife as he saw an all too familiar equine silhouette standing in the middle of the creek, and he froze up as he watched it slosh out of the water and towards him.

            He stumbled back as The Thing prowled through the reeds and cattails to stand before him, its mane just as tangled as he remembered it, though it boasted a few new additions, including what looked like a fish skeleton and a rat skull.

           Wylan was tense all over, braced to fight this thing, his whittling knife glinting in the light of the setting sun, and looked over The Thing warily.

            It had been the main character featured in his nightmares, as well as the subject for many of the boy’s works of art. His father had to be getting worried about all of the canvases cluttering up the studio that depicted bloated horses with long, stringy manes.

           In all fairness, Jan Van Eck really didn’t check the studio all that often, considering it was Wylan’s main haunt and the billionaire, naturally, wanted to stay as far away from his illiterate son as possible.

            “You’ve grown,” The Thing noted, shaking its head to dry itself off somewhat, and Wylan somehow managed to tense even further as some of the droplets landed on him.

            He wondered if The Thing made all the water it touched turn to acid. The boy’s skin wasn’t corroding, though, so that was a good sign.

           Considering The Thing hadn’t visited in six or so years, Wylan wondered why it sounded so surprised that Wylan had matured.

           Then again, it didn’t seem to have aged a day, still as ugly and bloated as ever.

           “I was simply checking up on you. I’ve been so lonely. You never come to visit the rocks anymore.”

            “With good reason,” Wylan spat. He wanted to kill this thing. Wanted to kill it and dissect it to find out what it was and how it worked.

            “Your house is far away,” The Thing remarked, and Wylan was immediately on high alert as he backed farther away The Thing, whose back legs still stood ankle deep in disgusting creek water. “Perhaps I should give you a ride? To save you the trouble?”

            “I’m not going to get on your back,” Wylan growled. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll kill you.”

            “I can see that,” The Thing scoffed, but it didn’t sound all that concerned. “Just one little ride? For old time’ sake.”

            “No.”

            “As you wish,” The Thing snorted, and then it was backing into creek, its eyes locked with Wylan’s right up until the moment the tips of its ears dipped beneath the water, leaving nothing behind but hoofprints and ripples.

 

\----Ӝ----

 

            The final time Wylan saw The Thing was most likely the most memorable time.

            The world was on fire. The house was alight, whorls of flame crawling up the sides and eating up the roof, and Wylan could only watch from his position in the fields, where he’d been asked by his father to collect logs from one of the many piles scattered about the property.

          “Dregs!” one of the stable hands cried as he sprinted past, his arms filled with every possession of his that he could carry.

          Wylan watched in horror as a bullet hole appeared on the back of his neck and he collapsed, his belongings falling from his grip, and Wylan, despite his raging conscience, remained hidden behind the wood pile as he watched the stable hand, after a few moments of writhing and gasping, grow still and quiet.

            He choked on a scream as a bear of a man, with long blonde hair and a military-style uniform, bent low and pocketed the stable hand’s watch, as well as a ring that looked like it was a family heirloom.

           Wylan tried to make himself as small as possible as the blond-haired brute rose and slung his rifle over his shoulder, lumbering back to the house.

          Wylan waited a half hour before moving to peer over the edge of the long pile, and let out a ragged breath when he saw figures standing in a line outside of the Van Eck mansion, watching it burn.

          From this distance, Wylan couldn’t really make them out, but he was pretty sure there were two men and two women.

          One of them, leaning heavily on a cane, limped over to a nearby pony cart, which, to Wylan’s horror, was piled high with Wylan’s father’s more expensive goods, including the porcelain plates and the golden statues.

            Wylan was only aware that he was visible when suddenly one of the women, heavier set and boasting a red _kefta_ embroidered with black that marked her as a Heartrender, pointed at him and shouted something.

           Wylan froze as the blond man from before hefted his rifle, and another Suli-looking woman drew wickedly sharp knives.

           The man with the cane flicked his hand, which was clad in a black leather glove, and the three others began to charge towards Wylan.

           They were fast, but Wylan was a considerable distance away, enough that he’d been discovered only because of the Heartrender’s ability to sense pumping blood.

            Suddenly, there was a chillingly familiar voice coming from behind him:

            “You need a ride?”

            Wylan leapt back, turning to see The Thing, and realized, belatedly, that he was near the well.

            The drowned-looking horse was dripping wet, as usual, and due to its size, it couldn’t’ve possibly crawled from the tiny hole that was usually covered by a nearly unmovable stone slab.

           The bucket and the rope that were lowered down into the depths had gotten caught within the tangles of The Thing’s tail, though the horse creature either didn’t know or didn’t care.

           Wylan spared a glance over his shoulder and saw the Dregs charging towards him, still a reasonable distance away but close enough that he could see the murder written all over his faces.

           He couldn’t possibly outrun them, and it was only because he was mostly obscured by the wood pile that the Heartrender couldn’t kill him right then and there. If her powers as a Grisha didn’t kill Wylan first, then the other woman’s knives or the blond man’s rifle would surely do the trick.

            Wylan warily eyed The Thing, who was waiting patiently, and made his decision.

            His heart in his throat, the boy jogged over to the disgusting creature, and it let out a snort of astonishment, as if it hadn’t thought Wylan would accept its offer in its wildest dreams, but it recovered quickly from its initial shock and lowered itself to its front knees, allowing Wylan to clamber on.

            Considering the creature’s untrustworthiness, it’s no surprise that every part of Wylan that was touching the horse, from his legs encircled around the beast’s sides to his hands pressed against its neck, stuck like glue. Wylan let out a cry of alarm as he pulled and pulled, but the horse’s skin was gooey, like an adhesive, and the stench of rotting fish made Wylan gag.

           The boy could only sit, stuck like a fly in a spider’s web, and wallow in his terror as The Thing reared up on its hind legs and let out an ear-splitting shriek, taking off at a full gallop.

            Above the roar of wind in his ears, Wylan heard the telltale sound of the Dregs letting out startled shouts as The Thing charged towards them.

           Wylan felt its powerful muscles flexing and pulling, and despite his fear he felt his heart soaring with adrenaline as the stallion seemed to fly through the air, its hooves never really touching the ground.

           Its mane and tail whipped to and fro, and Wylan did his best to lean and try to avoid both the hair itself and the disgusting things ensnared within the strands.

          The Dregs dove out of the way as The Thing sailed passed them, and he felt something pull at his heart, a constricting feeling that must’ve come from the Heartrender, but it was gone as soon as it had come.

         The sound of the blond man’s rifle firing left Wylan’s ears ringing, but none of the bullets made contact as he and the horse flew towards the whirling inferno that had once been Wylan’s house.

        The boy found it sickening that he didn’t really feel any grief.

        The man with the cane seemed shocked to say the least, and the horse hitched to his carriage reared and let out a scream unlike anything Wylan had ever heard.

        Wylan turned to see it collapse onto its side, blood trickling from its eyes and ears.

            He feared they’d run straight through the doors of the flaming building, but the horse swerved at the last second and went flying down the steep cliffs and towards the rocks, and Wylan’s stomach dropped like a leaden ball, though it wasn't just because of all of the free-falling.

          He allowed himself to scream as The Thing galloped towards the ocean, and he desperately tried to free his hands and legs, but he was well and truly stuck.

         This was how it was going to end.

         This was _always_ how it was going to end, ever since he’d met The Thing on that fateful day on the rocks.

         His complete and total terror overwhelmed him, and he wailed for someone to help as they approached the last few stretches of water.

        There was no help to be spoken of, however, and he felt weightless as The Thing leapt into the dark water with Wylan trapped on its back.

            Down into the ocean they went, and bubbles streamed from Wylan’s nose and mouth as he watched the light from above slowly becoming smaller.

           His lungs screamed for air as he tried to free his hands, and he turned to see The Thing watching him with those glowing green eyes. Its mouth was contorted into a sharp-toothed grin.

            Farther down into the ocean it swam, and Wylan’s ears popped and he finally inhaled. His lungs filled, expecting air but getting saltwater, and they continued to descend.

            Down.

            Down.

            Down.

 

\----Ӝ----

 

            Wylan woke to someone giving him compressions, and after a few moments of being unable to breathe, he spluttered and coughed up enough water to fill a small bucket.

            He lay on his side, gasping for a while, before he realized that he was in a cave of some sort.

           Moonlight filtered through a hole in the ceiling, and moss and lichens clung to the damp walls.

           He turned to thank his rescuer when he saw those same green eyes that had watched while Wylan had drowned.

           The redhead couldn’t scream, considering how hoarse he was, so he settled for crawling away as fast as his aching limbs could carry him.

          He was stopped by a large hand clamping down on his shoulder, and he struggled and squirmed, trying to get away.

         The Thing flipped him over, and Wylan, prepared to see the ugly, bloated horse and shining incisors ready to devour him, he came face to face with a Zemeni boy.

            “Hello, there,” said The Thing, who most certainly was not a “thing” anymore.

            In fact, he was quite handsome, and, at the worst time, Wylan’s smoking heap of gayness decided to make itself known.

 _Hey look, this guy is attractive!_  said Wylan’s Gayness.

 _Don’t you realize that he’s a monster who, on multiple occasions, has tried to drown you?_ Wylan’s Common Sense shot back.

 _But he’s cuuuute,_ Wylan’s Gayness complained. The Wylan in the real world had nothing to say, really, and could only stare mutely with eyes the size of dinner plates.

           The Zemeni boy sat back on his heels and chuckled richly, letting go of Wylan in order to sit back, cross his arms, and lean against the wall. “My name is Jesper.”

            “It’s nice to know the name of the creature who’s been stalking and trying to kill me all my life,” Wylan tried to retort, but all that came out was a harsh croak.

            Jesper laughed heartily, and Wylan’s Gayness was getting all riled up. Hopefully, it wouldn’t get excited enough to invite Little Wylan to the party.

           The two of them sat in silence for a while, sizing each other up, and the first thing that Wylan noticed was the fact that the only thing covering up this guy’s manhood was a tarp wrapped around his waist.

          Even then, it only came down to his upper thighs, and with all of the crisscross applesauce sitting he was doing, Wylan was probably going to get one hell of a view in the near future. Wylan’s Gayness made it known that it would like that, and Wylan had to think of his father in lingerie in order to make sure Little Wylan didn’t get interested.

            After that was said and done, Wylan sized up his surroundings.

           He and Jesper were in a cave about the size of an average walk-in closet, and the ceiling wasn’t very high; it was raised enough to stand but low enough that one would have to bend over a considerable amount to do so.

          It was clearly meant for sitting and lying down, and Wylan took note of the fact that there was a small mattress off to the side with a pillow and a few blankets.

          To the other side, Wylan noticed that there was no floor, just a small, circular pool filled with sloshing, near-black water. It was the perfect size for someone like Jesper to crawl through, and the redhead realized that it must've been quite a hassle for Jesper to get Wylan’s unconscious body through the opening.

            “Welcome to la casa de Jesper,” the Zemeni boy announced jovially, scooting over so he and Wylan were shoulder-to-shoulder.

             It became more and more difficult for Wylan to picture the bloated demon horse when he stared at Jesper, and even though he was too weak to move away if he tried, he didn’t really mind Jesper being near; he radiated warmth, and Wylan’s damp clothes were making well sure that the boy would probably catch his death. “Nice, isn’t it?”

            “It’s pretty good for a…” Wylan searched for a word, a name of a species that would describe what Jesper was, but came up with nothing.

            “Kelpie.”

            “A kelpie?”

            “Yes, a kelpie.”

            “I need a drink,” Wylan groaned, and Jesper only chuckled. Wylan had heard of kelpies, and wondered why he hadn’t put the pieces together before. According to the legends, kelpies were the spirits of people who’d drowned with a horse or by a horse, and their soul, having been smothered by the water and unable to get to Heaven, had entered the horse’s body, destined to live out eternity as a hideous beast.

            Kelpies were notorious for tempting children onto their backs and then drowning them, feasting on their flesh afterwards, but this particular aquatic monster seemed to have other plans.

            “Are you going to eat me?” Wylan asked. He wanted to get to the point so that he wouldn’t be surprised when Jesper began tearing into him alive.

            “Why would you think that?” Jesper spluttered, seeming offended.

            “Because you’ve been trying to get me onto your back and drown me since I was five. I’m pretty sure it was on your To-Do list on one point.”

            “That’s preposterous!” Jesper snapped. “I would never try to eat anyone, especially children.”

            “Then why did you act so creepy? Besides, your…kind…doesn’t have a reputation for being safe for kids,” Wylan snorted around his chattering teeth.

            “Touché,” Jesper growled, crawling over to a small chest that Wylan hadn’t noticed before. He rifled about in it for a while, giving Wylan a perfect view of his incredibly muscular back, and eventually tossed him a new set of clothes.

           “But I seriously wanted you to come with me.”

            He turned around, giving Wylan privacy as he peeled his sopping clothes off of his body and discarded them in a wet heap, though the redhead swore he saw the Zemeni boy peeking. “Your dad was abusive as fuck.”

            “He never hit me,” Wylan defended, but he knew it was a lost cause. He was simply sticking up for his, now deceased, father because it was the right thing to do, not because Jan Van Eck was actually a good person.

            He hunkered down in his comfortable, too-big attire and tried for a reassuring smile as Jesper sidled up to him with a grim expression.

            “Yeah but he didn’t care if you got hurt. I could’ve dragged you into the sea and drowned you that day, and he would only be scared for his damned reputation,” Jesper snarled, and Wylan recognized genuine hatred burning in his glowing gaze.

            His hands were balled into fists in his lap, and Wylan was unsure of how to comfort him; there was really nothing he could say. So they simply sat together in companionable silence.

            Wylan, full to bursting with questions, was the one to break it, of course. “If you don’t eat children, then what _do_ you eat?”

            “Fish,” Jesper replied matter-of-factly, his expression clearly stating “duh”. He wrapped his arm around Wylan’s shoulders, and Wylan noticed that this was not something that the average Straight™ person would do, but indulged in it anyway, even going as far as to lean his head on Jesper’s shoulder. They stayed in silence for a while.

            “As payment for rescuing you, I’m going to need you to go on a date with me.”

            “And you’ve been planning this since I was five? Pedophile.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little twist to your classic Wesper fic. This was really fun to write, mostly because I've been obsessed with European mythology lately. Don't forget to leave a comment and kudos!


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